The Forgotten
by Yumithebutterfly
Summary: Maybe it's not such a foolish thing . . . A SessRin nonromance fic.


**A/N:** Hello, everyone! I'm back. I hope you enjoy reading this.

**The Forgotten**

Summary: Maybe it's not such a foolish thing . . .

They say to be forgotten is worse than death. Lord Sesshoumaru wouldn't know, since he'd never died and he was quite certain no one had ever forgotten him. Not even his half-brother, Inuyasha, even though the two had fallen out of touch some seventy years ago. Inuyasha's mate, Kagome, had not forgotten him, even to her death. Over the many years that he would drop in unexpectedly and demand the name of their newest child so he could take a census, her eyes would light up with a strange glow of recognition. He could only assume she was so pleased to see him because he reminded her of someone. Whomever he reminded her of was beyond him.

"This is Mika," Kagome had said that time, showing Sesshoumaru a small, pink, human child wrapped tightly in a white blanket.

Inuyasha scoffed in the background.

"Mika," Sesshoumaru repeated, then he understood. "The new moon."

Inuyasha sulked. His hair, now black, was limp and flat, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days. Understandably so; having three children is no easy thing to manage.

Kagome looked equally tired. Now close to thirty years old she appeared older than Inuyasha, but she still loved him with her whole heart. Sesshoumaru could tell her feelings were reciprocated.

"Jaken."

The imp waddled over. "Yes, my lord?"

"Include little Mika in our census for this year."

"Yes, master," Jaken replied, scribbling something on a scroll.

Then Sesshoumaru turned and left the little hut. Once outside, he shook his head when her heard Inuyasha's concerned voice ask Kagome if Mika would recognize him when he was normal tomorrow morning. Kagome calmly responded that yes, of course she would.

The night of Mika's birth had been over one hundred ten years ago, and Sesshoumaru still found it hard to believe. Where had the time gone? It seemed to be flying by for some time now, though he couldn't quite put his finger on the exact date it started. He knew it had something to do with Naraku, that deplorable demon from so long ago, but he wasn't sure why.

Sesshoumaru was roaming aimlessly through his palace with no particular destination in mind. He hadn't been down this hallway in a while. Where did it go? He stepped through the high doorway, and remembered. The kitchen. With its pure marble floor and spotless stone oven, it looked just as it had the last time it was used. Which was how long ago, again? Not since Izayoi, Inuyasha's mortal mother, to be sure. Sesshoumaru had no use for a kitchen.

Bored with this room, he shut the door and continued back the way he'd come. No servants or maids bustled about anymore, for he'd dismissed them all of their duties about twenty years prior. With only Jaken and himself to occupy the palace, he had no use for them.

Something was missing. He'd just realized it recently, and it was the reason for his desultory wanderings around his castle. It was the reason he didn't know where he was going, and it was the reason he couldn't stop looking. _Something was missing._

A small voice told him to continue down the corridor to the end, but he didn't want to. For reasons unbeknownst to even him, Sesshoumaru did not want to find the end of the hall. It was as if he was . . . afraid.

He scoffed. Lord Sesshoumaru, Taiyoukai, Supreme Ruler of the West, afraid of a simple hallway? Preposterous. He was certainly more fearsome than anything in this castle.

But still he hesitated. Part of him wanted to turn and run the opposite direction, never to return to this wing of the palace again, and another part of him wanted to press on and discover what it was about this area that caused him so much unease. What ever It was, It wasn't something tangible. It was not an animal, a youkai, a friend or a foe. It wasn't something he could see, no matter how brightly the hall was lit, but something he could _feel._ He could _sense _this presence there, and It was waiting for him.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. And so he stood, uncertain and unwilling to make a decision. Or a mistake.

-

Elsewhere in the castle, Jaken awaited the return of his master in the study. Sesshoumaru had said he was going for a walk again, and that had been hours ago. But still Jaken remained, as any loyal retainer should, patiently and unquestioning.

In reality, Jaken was relieved that Sesshoumaru was away, even if just in another part of the palace. It gave him a chance to sort his many thoughts.

Why hadn't lord Sesshoumaru asked him along? If he was searching for something, surely Jaken would find it and bring it back. Why had lord Sesshoumaru been so distant lately? Well, not exactly lately. Ever since It happened. Why hadn't lord Sesshoumaru spoken of It since It happened? He needed to maintain the image of a strong youkai, of course, but . . . it was strange that he had never said a word. He simply acted as if It had never occurred and he was completely unfazed by It.

Jaken was not so unaffected. The tragic death of the girl had hit him hard, even though he had acted like she was nothing but a burden. He now wished he had been a little more tolerant of her, if not a little nicer.

The way Sesshoumaru-sama had been.

-

Sesshoumaru had made up his mind. With cautious steps he proceeded down the lamp-lit corridor, eyes darting warily around for any threat.

He found none.

In front of him were two doors, one to his right and one directly in front of him. The one on his right was his own bedroom. He hadn't been inside in many decades, but he couldn't remember why; he just slept in the study when he grew too tired. Maybe it was because It had been here then, too.

The door in front of him befuddled him. Had it always been there? Whom had occupied the room? Why couldn't he remember?

He took a step forward and his pulse quickened. His breath came in short hitches and his feet felt made of bricks. Something was there, in that room. It was there.

He reached out and grasped the doorknob; it was smooth and cool. He hesitated for only a moment, then with a swift twist of his wrist, the door creaked noisily and swung open.

Sesshoumaru froze. The room was simple, with not much more than an oak chest, which was stationed against the wall to Sesshoumaru's left, and a futon mattress, which lay in the center of the room. But it wasn't the mattress itself that gave him pause, but what was _on _the mattress. Sitting Indian-style on the futon was a young girl, maybe eight years old, playing with a tattered rag doll. She was humming a simple tune to herself and seemed unaware at first that she had company. She was a little girl, small in size with long, black hair that was partly gathered in a ponytail on one side, and a cheery orange-and-cream kimono was all she wore. She looked up at Sesshoumaru, and he could see deep into her large, brown eyes.

_If I should ever die, would you not forget me?_

_Such a foolish thing . . . _

Sesshoumaru stumbled back out of the room and shut his eyes. After several moments he opened them again and forced himself to peer back into the room.

The girl was gone, but the doll remained.

Trembling, Sesshoumaru stepped into the room and paced to the bed. He knelt beside it and picked up the rag doll. It was nothing more than a flour sack with cord tied around it to make arms, legs and a head, but the girl had treasured it.

The girl. Rin.

Sesshoumaru shut his eyes tight and fought a twitch in his chest. Yes, Rin. How could he have forgotten her? How could he not remember her angelic face, her melodic laugh, and her sweet scent? How could he, especially after she'd asked him not to?

Rin was what was missing.

Sesshoumaru slammed his fist into the futon. How could he not remember! She was his whole purpose for living! Furious with himself, he threw the sack doll against the wall with all his might. It exploded on impact and shattered the wall. A cloud of white dust and a limp piece of cloth were all that remained.

Sesshoumaru stood and strode out of the room, swiftly making his way back the way he'd come. A few minutes later found him back at the study.

Jaken stood to greet him. "Lord Sessho-"

"Leave, Jaken."

"My lord?"

"OUT!" Sesshoumaru roared. Jaken jumped and fled the room. The door slammed behind him. Sesshoumaru sat in his chair and leaned his head back, covering his eyes with his hand.

Inuyasha stood silent and still, watching his brother from a far corner. Sesshoumaru had to know he was there. The hanyou dropped his eyes as he saw a single drop of water escape from under Sesshoumaru's hand and trail down his cheek and along his jaw.

"You know," Inuyasha said softly, taking a step forward. Sesshoumaru didn't react. "Kagome once told me that sometimes, if something happens that is very traumatic, our brains have a defense mechanism that blocks the memory. It's our brains' way of protecting us. I don't remember what she called it."

Sesshoumaru slowly slid his hand from his eyes and looked at Inuyasha. Inuyasha looked exactly the same, but an air of maturity surrounded him that made him seem older than he appeared. Sesshoumaru had to admit that he'd done a lot of growing. "Is that so?"

Inuyasha nodded.

"And Rin?"

Inuyasha shrugged. "Kagome speculated that you didn't forget her on purpose, but it happened because she died and you couldn't handle it." He added quietly, "she thought it was because you liked Rin so much."

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes. "I didn't _like_ Rin," he said.

Inuyasha looked surprised, then nodded. He knew what his brother meant.

He meant he had loved her.

"And what do you think?" Sesshoumaru inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"You've only said what Kagome thought. What do _you_ think?"

Inuyasha thought for a moment, then said, "I think you're going to be fine. I think Kagome was right."

Sesshoumaru considered that. Then he nodded.

"Come with me," said Inuyasha. "There's something I want you to see."

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow at him, then followed at his beckoning.

-

A cool Autumn breeze drifted through the open field. A single cherry blossom tree stood tall in the very center with a small, gray stone resting underneath. The carving in the stone read simply,

_Rin_

_Princess of the Western Province_

Sesshoumaru gave Inuyasha a surprised look.

"The day after she died," Inuyasha explained, answering Sesshoumaru's unspoken question. "You couldn't come to the funeral. You had already started denying that she ever existed. It was too late by then."

Sesshoumaru looked away. How he wished he could have been there, if only to say goodbye. After several moments, he said, "Inuyasha."

Inuyasha winced. Sesshoumaru sounded like he was trying not to cry. Again. "Yeah?"

"Where is the Tenseiga?"

"I have it," Inuyasha replied. "You . . . forgot what it was for. What it did."

"Forgot," Sesshoumaru wondered aloud, "or denied?"

Inuyasha shrugged. "Could be either one."

It was silent for a long time, and soon the sun began to set. It would be dark soon.

"I'd always thought she'd grow old with me," Sesshoumaru murmured.

Inuyasha felt privileged. Never had Sesshoumaru opened up so much to anyone. He said nothing for fear of saying the wrong thing, but still Sesshoumaru continued.

"I never thought she'd die of a sickness. What did your woman call it?"

"Leukemia," Inuyasha replied. "She said it was a kind of cancer. Whatever that is."

Sesshoumaru nodded. "I reminded her of Rin, is that right? Is that why Kagome looked at me the way she did whenever she saw me?"

Inuyasha nodded. "She loved Rin."

After a few more moments, Sesshoumaru said, "You need not stay, Inuyasha. I know my own way back."

Inuyasha nodded in agreement and turned to leave. Sesshoumaru would never say it, but Inuyasha knew he was grateful for what he'd done.

"Inuyasha!"

Inuyasha pivoted. Sesshoumaru was looking at him. "Yeah?"

"How long after she died was Naraku finally defeated?"

Inuyasha thought about it. Then, "Only two weeks."

Sesshoumaru nodded, somewhat sadly in Inuyasha's opinion, and replied simply, "I see."

Inuyasha turned again and left the field.

As night fell, Sesshoumaru couldn't help but notice that the fireflies were starting to come out. Rin had always like fireflies. The evening wind blew about and Sesshoumaru stared at the stars.

"I'm sorry, Rin," he said to the sky. "I won't forget you again. I swear it."

And so it was that the memory of Rin was with Sesshoumaru wherever he went, long after the death of Jaken and Inuyasha, until his very last day.

A/N: Wow, I depressed myself. Anyway, let me know what you think, okay? I know it's kinda weird, but I'm kinda proud of it. What was your favorite part (if any)? I'd really like to hear it! Thanks for reading.


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